I am so tired
Or is my mind badly wired?
Desperately struggling to keep afloat
On a constant lookout for a boat.
How alone I sometimes feel
Akin to climbing a steep, high hill
I know I do not possess any high expectation
Because I know it does not always get me to my destination.
I do not want to talk
Not necessarily will it get me out of the fog
Sometimes it is not about finding someone to confide
I now only wish for a hole where I can temporarily hide.
On the outside a book with thick, strong cover
Inside me, only pages of thin paper
Day in day out I slog like mad
An egg I am, I just hope one day I do not crack.
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